


You’ve Got an Owl

by noxnova



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, You've Got Mail (1998)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Pen Pals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxnova/pseuds/noxnova
Summary: Hermione Granger slowly begins to fall for her secret penpal while she plots the demise of Draco Malfoy, her business rival. One day, she discovers they're the same person. Inspired by the movie « You’ve Got Mail » (1998).
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	1. The Howler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my second work! Check out my first completed fanfiction "The Veela Realm" by clicking on my profile!
> 
> _ song: Sweater (acoustic version) - Bow Anderson. _

Turning off the led sign in front of the window, Hermione Granger let out a long sigh of content. “If the rest of the week is like today, we’ll make more money than we did last month.

\- If there’s as many customers tomorrow as they were today, I'm going to shoot myself.” groaned Georgia, stretching herself behind the counter. 

“Come on, Georgia! Don’t you love it? 

\- Love what?

\- The spirit of Christmas! The smells, the music, people hurrying up to buy presents for their loved ones! I just love it! Don’t you love it, boss?” asked Eddie, bouncing from the counter to where Hermione was standing. 

Both stared out the window at the streets covered with a fine layer of snow. 

“Boss, have you decided what to do with the shop on Christmas? Will we be closing?

\- You guys have both days off, I'll stay.” replied Hermione, a small smile on her face. 

“Not that I care, because I don’t but shouldn’t you be with..” Georgia changed her voice to imitate Eddie’s “...your loved ones?” 

Hermione laughed and answered: “My parents are in Australia and my friends all have their families to spend it with. I just want some peace and quiet this year. Last year’s events were enough for me, I believe.” she muttered that last sentence. 

“Oh yeah, remember Georgie?

\- Georgia.

\- Remember how tired and sad she looked when she came back from London? just after she had broken up with her boyf…Owww!!!” 

Hermione silently thanked Georgia for throwing that pencil at Eddie’s head. While she was now on very good terms with Ronald Weasley, it had taken them six months or so to go back the way they used to, before they had started dating. They had understood that it was nobody’s fault and that they would just be better as friends. Hermione leaving her high-paying job at the ministry and the whole of London a year before the breakup and forcing them to commute every time they wanted to see each other had not helped their relationship but, in the end, the witch believed it was the best choice she could have ever made for herself. 

As much as she missed the Weasleys and the Potters, she sometimes felt very alone in the middle of all those couples and had opted out of this year’s festivities for what promised to be the “Perfect Hermione Granger Christmas”: hot chocolate, earl grey cake and solitude in her british countryside bookstore. 

Two years ago, after a fight with Ron, Hermione had simply opened a muggle geography book, pointed at a map of Great Britain and disapparated to Kirkwall, the small countryside town her finger had landed on. She had walked around all day until she had found this small bookstore with a big “On Sale” poster on the door. One hour later, she had come out of the shop, shaking hands with the owner, a new life in front of her. 

Five years had passed since the war and Hermione had given the first three years to the Wizarding World but only had gotten herself in a tornado of being stalked by the media, being offered shortcuts through life that she didn’t feel like she deserved and being used as a mascot for the Ministry of Magic who was still rebuilding its society. Now, far away from London, in the middle of muggles while keeping a healthy distance with the Wizarding World, she was as happy as she could be. 

“Fucking hell, Eddie.. always bringing that redhead’s name around..” Georgia’s groans brought Hermione’s attention back to the present. Eddie’s round face had become so red he could easily become one of the shop’s Christmas decorations. Chuckling, Hermione began to put her coat on and said: “There’s no rule saying you cannot talk about Ron in front of me. We are very good friends now, as we were before..well, before we made all those mistakes. Eddie, are you okay with closing the shop today? 

\- No problem, boss! See you tomorrow!”

Waving at her employees, she stepped outside, her feet landing on the crunchy snow. 

What Hermione had said to Eddie and Georgia was true, she was happy to be friends with Ron and wished him nothing but the best. In fact, she had been the first one to know after he had ended up finding love again with Katie Bell and she could only hope she would find someone to love too. Until that day happened, she was content with the life she had now.

Even though she usually apparated around the corner directly to her cottage, she decided to take advantage of the mild weather to enjoy the snow and the Christmas lights around her. Every shop was beautifully decorated, all awaiting the festivities at the end of the month and, while everyone she loved was quite far away and she would be alone, she couldn’t help but feel like this year’s Christmas would be special. “Maybe just not for me..” she thought to herself while walking down the street. 

As soon as she arrived at her cottage, her grey scottish fold kitten came to the door to greet her. “Hi, Chip.” she said, crouching down to scratch behind his ear. She realized that Chip was sitting on a quite high pile of mail. 

“Electricity...gas...insurance...a letter from Ginny!!!” she jumped out of excitement. Chuckling at all the muggle stamps Ginny had stuck on the envelope, she opened it to only find a cutout of The Quibbler inside. Shaking the envelope to verify there was nothing else, she realized Ginny was probably just very bored at home, being eight-months pregnant and was just joking as she read the cutout. 

**_“Alone for the holidays? Your husband doesn’t listen to you anymore? Need someone to talk to? No attachment and more mystery? The Secret Owl service is here for you! For only a galleon, we will match you with the perfect anonymous pen pal for you!”_ **

“What the…” as soon as she was going to start cursing her best friend, an owl started to knock its beak on her kitchen window. At its feet was attached a red envelope which Hermione knew to be an howler. Carefully opening it, she jumped and laughed at Ginny’s voice coming out of the card:

“DID YOU GET MY MUGGLE LETTER? i hope you did or Potter is going to sleep on the couch tonight...even though he has been doing it because i’m too fat for him to sleep with me..anyways..HAVE YOU READ THE THING I SENT YOU? SIGN UP! COME ON! DO IT! DO IT!”

Suddenly, Ginny’s voice was joined by another that Hermione knew too well:

“ DO IT! DO IT! I don’t know who you are and what you have to do but DO IT! DO IT!

\- Shut up George, what are you doing here?” and then the Howler destroyed itself. 

Laughing at her very loud friends, she took the cutout and sat on her couch by the fire, quickly joined by Chip: “Look at this, Chip. They want to know my favorite color, my favorite smells, my hobbies, my….deepest and darkest fears? uh okay.. at least, nothing about the wa..oh there it is: which side were you on? and do you regret it? This is ridiculous..” she said before putting it down on the window border. “I’m not doing that. I’m hungry.” she decided as she got up and walked towards the kitchen, trying to forget about it. 

After a big bowl of onion soup, Hermione laid on her bed, close to having a food coma, and stared at the ceiling, her hand absently stroking Chip. “Why did Ginny think this was a good idea? Is she that bored? I mean..Yes, writing to someone I don’t know and, especially, that does not know me could be quite interesting but I don’t even have an owl..” she kept rambling out loud, as if the kitten could understand everything she was saying. “But at the same time, I’m bored, aren’t i? That could be a new hobby for when I get home.. Should I?” 

Before she knew it, she had jumped out of her bed, startling the poor Chip and had gone to the living room and retrieved the cutout. She quickly answered the questionnaire and before she could regret it, had used Ginny’s owl to send it. 

“It will take awhile before I get a match, anyways..” she tried to reassure herself. Little did she know that the next day, as she came home back from work, a letter from her new anonymous pen pal was waiting for her. 

A beautiful and tall grey owl had been waiting, perched on her gate. She could see Chip, sitting in front of the window, turning its head from one side to the other as if it was trying to understand what that strange animal had been doing there. 

“Hello there.” she said, slowly approaching the owl. She could see a medium-size brown envelope hanging on one of its legs. Carefully, she pulled it out the envelope, stroked the owl with one finger. Expecting it to fly away, she was surprised to see it stay, as if it were awaiting for something. 

She opened the envelope and found two parchments inside. The first one came from The Secret Owl, explaining that this was the very first letter from her new penpal and that, if after reading it, she wasn’t keen on responding, that she could send the letter back and would be reimbursed. As she had stated that she did not have an owl, her penpal had been asked to share his or hers with her. “So you are waiting for an answer, aren’t you?” she asked the owl who hooted as a response. 

Once inside, after a few scratches below Chip’s, she sat on her armchair by the window and absently lit a fire with her wand. The letter smelt like the male perfume the Weasley Twins had showered in for the Yule Ball. “My penpal is a he, then..” she said to Chip, who sitting on the border of the window, seemed as curious as she was about the content of the letter. 

She read out loud:

_“Hello.._

_This is strange, I don’t know what took over me when I decided to sign up for this. Was it the loneliness? The anonymity? The thrill of not knowing what may come out of it? It might as well be a mix of it all. How to talk about myself and my life to someone who doesn’t know who I am without divulging my identity? I could be a famous Quidditch player, a Hogwarts professor, the minister of magic and one of the Weird Sisters and you would never know._

_This might be the magic of it too; you not knowing my past or my present, not being able to judge me on my victories and losses._

_Here’s what you should know; I like books, all sorts of books, especially books that I can learn something from. I also like to fly on my broom, in the mornings, before the whole world awakes. I could survive only on tea, apples and everything sweet. My closest friend right now might be my house elf, unless you decide to take its place._

_Tell me about you, stranger.”_

  
  


Folding back the letter, she looked at Chip and asked: “What do we think about him, Chip? Do we answer?

\- Meow.

\- He might be a strange man. 

\- Meow.

\- But we’ll never know, will we? 

\- Meow. 

\- So I should write back, shouldn’t I?

\- Meow.”

Stretching her hand towards her desk, she grabbed a quill, some ink and some parchment. 

_“Hello Stranger,_

_I too do not know what took over me when I decided to answer. A very dear and very bored friend sent me this and I think the lack of adventure and mystery in my life lately might have pushed me into applying. This might be a very bad idea but, oh well, I haven’t made a bad decision in a while so I’ll make this one._

_Here’s what YOU should know about me; I have a cat, his name is Chip. He said I should reply so this is what I’m doing. I swear I sometimes take decisions for myself too but today, my cat has decided for me. I also love books more than anything in the world (don’t tell Chip) and my favorite is “Hogwarts: a History” which sounds very weird to many but it brings me back to those endless corridors, those moving stairs and paintings, the smell of parchment, ink and magic...I do miss it very much. What I could live off?...coffee, soup and well..books. I left my ministry job a few years ago to become a business owner and this might be the best decision I have ever made in my whole entire life. I hope the decision I took to reply to you will also be a good one. Why am I scared? Are you?_

_Tell me about your day, I’ll tell you about mine._

_x_

_Ps: Your owl is beautiful, can I know her name?”_

Content, she sat back in her armchair, Chip jumping on her lap, and looked through the window as the owl flew away amongst the stars. For the first time in a while, she had something else to look forward to, besides her work at the bookstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voila! This is the first chapter, just to lay the background for the story. Georgia and Eddie are mine, the rest belong to..well, that woman that used to be my hero. I will try to keep this fanfic under 15 chapters, but knowing myself.....haha 
> 
> I hope you like it!


	2. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the tardiness. I wanted to keep a similar schedule with my last work which was uploading once a week, on saturday or sunday but...my computer has died. I am currently using my best friend's for the weekend so I will try to write at least two more chapters to have material to publish until I can fix my computer. Anyways, who cares? haha 
> 
> For this chapter, I listened to James Arthur's 'Train Wreck'. I hope you'll like it!

“MINE!!

\- ‘Tis mine!!!!

\- Guys, guys…

\- MINE!!!” 

River had taken his older sister’s doll and was now running around the living room, bumping into the furniture while Ivy kept chasing him, crying her lungs out. Draco Malfoy stayed still, sitting on the rug, absently waiting for the kids to calm down on their own, as they usually did. 

“Children! I swear you’ll be the death of me!” cried a very pregnant Pansy Parkinson, entering the room only ten minutes after leaving to take a nap. “You are useless.” she stared at her defeated friend. “Where is my even more useless husband?

\- He went to get some plans at the office. He won’t be long.”

Pansy let herself fall back on one of the armchairs and let out a big sigh: “Do me a favor. 

\- What?

\- Don’t have kids. Get married, if you must, but never have kids.” she let out in a low, tired voice. Draco laughed and asked “Why?

\- I need you to be here for these two..soon three monsters. They like you. I don’t know why but they do.

\- Thanks..” snorted Draco, suddenly grabbing a running River by the waist, making the small child giggle as if his life depended on it. 

“Honey, i’m here!” Blaise said while dramatically entering the room, opening both doors at once. Once he saw Pansy, he took a more serious tone and said “Oh hello, wife.” before she snorted at his silliness and he bent down to kiss her. “Stop making my children like you more than they do me and come here.” he said, pointing a finger at Draco, before walking towards the living room wooden table. 

“What do we have here? Are they the complete plans? 

\- Yup, if Theo doesn’t mess everything up today, we’ll have this entire corner lined with all the shops witches need: a hair salon, a cosmetic shop and a tea room.

\- What about the florist in Hogsmeade?

\- Rejected.

\- The restaurant in the Scottish wizarding street?

\- No answer...which means..

\- Rejected.”

Draco let out a sigh and sunk back in the chair, running his fingers through his hair. He had done everything he could since the end of the war to improve his image; had donated most of his fortune, had kept his father out of most of his new business ventures and had volunteered for lectures at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Dumstrangs. But still, most of his business plans had been rejected; he didn’t lack the money nor were his business plans missing anything but the simple name Malfoy made most of the investors step back or shop owners refusing to sell their old shops to him, scared of backlash. What made him angry was that many thought of him as a simple victim of the war but were still not willing to work with him because of his father. 

The last three years, he had decided to partner with two of his best friends from school, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, which both were known for either having run off or simply decided to not choose sides during the war. A few businesses had come to fruition, as long as Draco was only simply cited as a major shareholder and nothing more. But the young wizard was tired, he wanted to be recognized for his work. He had worked too damn hard to keep asking for forgiveness for what his father did. He, himself, already had too much to ask forgiveness for. 

“Well, shit.” he pointed his wand at a few plans in front of him and set them on fire.

“Malfoy! That is mahogany!” cried Zabini, patting the papers on fire with his hands. “Are you still angry at us about the Secret Owl thing?

\- Don’t be a whiny bitch.” said Pansy, this time laying on the floor, making a little red car run across River’s leg. 

\- “I’m not being a b-i-t-c-h and I can’t believe I'm saying that but watch your language, Parkinson. At least in front of your children.

\- Mama, Uncle Draco’s a bitch?” asked innocently River which made his older sister and mother giggle while his father and honorary uncle both looked utterly defeated.

“Yes, baby, he is.” Pansy laughed once again, cleaning tears out of the corners of her eyes with one of Ivy’s pink rabbit ears. 

  
  


“I don’t see why Diagon Alley would fail... When is Theo supposed to be back?” asked Draco, after both him and Zabini had spent the last hour, finally in silence, looking at all the documents of their latest business venture. Scratching behind his ear with his quill, Zabini looked at the clock on the living room wall and frowned: “He should have been back by now.” 

As soon as he said that, the door opened and Theodore Nott entered the room. The defeated look on his face, him throwing hands as soon as he locked eyes with Draco said everything they needed to know. 

“What’s the reason, this time?” Zabini let out in a single breath. 

“Everything was going well with the committee until someone asked for the shareholders’ list, in order of importance..

\- And I’m the biggest shareholder. Look, I think it’s time…

\- Time to what? 

\- For you to go on without me.” answered Draco, getting up off his chair. “You..” he pointed at Zabini “have a family and you..” He looked at Theo, “Well, you’re one of the most popular bachelors right now so I guess you’ll be soon married or whatever. You don’t need me to slow you down..

\- Or maybe..” Zabini got up, went around the table and put his hands on Draco’s shoulders. “Maybe you should shut up.

\- What?

\- We’ll never survive without you. Your father might be an asshole but he has taught you everything you need to know about business while ours..

\- Ours didn’t give a flying fuck about us.” finished Theo, also coming around the table. 

Draco Malfoy was thankful to have them in his life. Both of his parents had been on house arrest since the end of the war and both were nothing more than ghosts, roaming around a manor the young wizard dreamed to burn to the ground. The only thing keeping him alive was this small, dysfunctional family he had when he came to the Zabini’s house: Blaise, Pansy and their children had welcomed him and Theo as their own. Theo had thrived in the wizarding society, coming back from America as soon as You-know-Who had died. He was going on dates every night with a different witch, slowly destroying everything his now dead father had left behind and quickly building back on top of it. Nobody seemed to reproach him for what his father had done and most saw the fact that he ran away as sufficient proof that he was ‘one of the good guys’. 

Only Draco seemed to be stuck in time; some people could tell that he was doing his best to change but most of the Wizarding World still stared at his covered arm, with some perverted hope that the sleeve of his shirts would go up just enough for them to catch a glance of the mark. He had lived a few years abroad but he knew that the longer he stayed there, the harder it would become for him to find a place at home for him to fit in. He had tried to date a few times but most women that approached him either had a morbid taste for bad boys or thought of him as a project, someone that could be molded into something completely different. But Draco knew, deep inside, that he would have to find someone to accept him for who he had been, who he was and who he will ever be. Until then, he had given up on bland dates, to the dismay of Pansy Parkinson who had taken as a hobby to bring him every day a list of potential new dates.

“You know what this means.” said Theo, tilting his head to his side. The three young men looked back and forth at each other before Blaise said: “Time to invest everything we have on our muggle venture.

\- Are you sure? You could easily find another wizard neighborhood, you know. I could.. I could still help you in the shadows..” said Draco, visibly uneasy by the idea of his friends having to give up on the idea of success in their own world for him. 

\- It’s been on the back burner for months. Now that we have more budget, we can go bigger and make it better! 

\- To Auckgreen we go, then!” Blaise cheered, handing two glasses of wine to his friends. 

  
  


By the time Draco left the Zabini Household, he had managed to convince Theo and Blaise that he would be the one scouting the surrounding towns for potential business partners. Standing in front of the manor’s door, he realized once again how much he hated this place: no matter how many decoration projects his mother could do to change it, the manor would still be a monument of darkness, haunted by the loss of innocent lives and prejudices of men that thought they knew better. 

Turning his back to the manor, he was about to walk down to the apparition spot and book himself a room somewhere when the door behind him opened: “ Young Master, the Mrs has asked the young master to join his parents for dinner. Now, she said.” ordered one of his elves. Taking a big breath in, he went inside and followed the elf down the countless corridors. 

  
  
  


“This was delicious, mother.” he complimented his mother, after yet another silent meal shared between the three of them, punctuated by the sound of knives and forks on plates. 

“Thank you, dear. I have been trying to learn more about cooking lately, now that i’m...well..home.” she replied with a sad smile. 

On the opposite side of the table sat Lucius Malfoy, his hair now as white as snow, his loss had left deep lines on his face. Sipping on his cup of wine, his father kept staring at him with an air of someone smelling something foul. Younger Draco would have avoided his stare but he could care less about his father’s deception towards him. 

Turning his face towards his mother to keep talking to her, he was interrupted by his father, who asked: “How is business in Diagon Alley?”

Feeling the heat growing in his cheeks and neck, Draco replied coldly: “I’m sure you know so I don’t see why you are bringing it to the table.

\- Well, you would have once asked me for advice but I see now that failure is a recurrent theme in your life.

\- Says the man whose idol is dead and now has to live the remaining of his days stuck at home with no dignity nor ambition at all.”

His father put down his cup just strongly enough for the cup to almost break:

“You will not talk to me like that, this is my home.

\- Actually, it’s not. This” Draco gestured around him, “is mine. I’m letting you spend the rest of your life here for Mother’s sake. I dream of making it explode every single day.

\- Draco..

\- And for your information; yes, all my business ventures have failed but not because of me..because of you! Don’t you worry about me, father. I have a few thousand ideas before a throw in the towel and lower myself to your standards.

\- Really? like what?”

Draco hesitated for a second: he might have told his father that he had any business ideas but if he were to be honest, his current life depended on the success of the muggle venture. One more failure and he had promised himself to simply give up on a future in Great Britain. 

Breathing in deeply, he grabbed the napkin on his knees and began fidgeting with it while saying: “My associates and I have decided to venture into the muggle world, by opening what they call a shopping center which is a few dozen shops in one same building.”

He risked looking at his father for a split second, worried to see once again the face of disgust but was surprised to see him look rather surprised. After a few moments of very loud silence, Lucius Malfoy said, in a very low voice: “well...the depth of your failure is not unexpected but you are telling me that you’d rather belittle yourself that much rather than ask your own father for advice or even help? To take such dirty money from filthy mudbloods...You are a disgrace to this family, I cannot..”

Draco stood up from his seat, held a hand up to stop his father and said: “There was a time where I would have drunk all the words coming out of your mouth and worship the ground you walked on but that time is over, father. You may also refrain from using such an antiquated language in my presence or..

\- Or what?” spat his father. “I’m your father. You owe me some respect, young man.

\- I owe you nothing. You are a disgrace. not me.” 

As those last words echoed in the wide living room, he quickly kissed his mother on the cheek and left without looking back.

A few hours later, Draco has roamed around London, lost in his thoughts just long enough to feel the loneliness creeping in, and had ended up taking a room at the Three Broomsticks. Sat at a small table near the bar, he asked the employee for some paper and ink and began to write:

_“Dear Stranger,_

_Do you believe in forgiveness? I find myself fighting for mine but yet do not give in easily._

_I sometimes cry myself to sleep at the idea of never getting the forgiveness I so long for but yet would rather cut all my limbs one by one before forgiving someone who has deeply hurt me. Is it hatred that is preventing me from forgiving or is it the fact that, deep inside, I still love that person too much to tell them that it is okay to hurt me?_

_Would you forgive your worst enemies? Teach me how to.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I have decided to change POV between Hermione and Draco every chapter!  
> That way, you can get a glimpse of both of their lives and thoughts.  
> All opinions are more than welcomed!


	3. The fake D-Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Computer still broken. Hopefully will fix it this week.  
> song: “the Age of Anxiety - Jamie Callum”.

The next few days had gone in a similar fashion; she would get up, go to the shop all day and rush back home to see if she had gotten any mail. Her pen pal had been writing to her everyday without fail and she had learned a few things about him: He too had studied at Hogwarts and, by the way he mentioned some professors and events, might have been there around the same time she had been. The last letter she had gotten from him had sounded quite dark and she had woken up a few times during the night, worrying about her friend. 

As soon as she had woken up with clearer thoughts, she had answered: 

_ “Would I forgive my worst enemies? This is quite a difficult question.  _

_ I believe some people do deserve forgiveness, especially if they did it for their own survival or the one of their loved ones but crimes that were made for greed, intolerance or just pure evil are unforgivable for me.  _

_ I forgave some people that wanted me dead..maybe one day i’ll tell you about it.. I do not know of the acts you are asking forgiveness for but I believe the first person you need to ask forgiveness to is yourself.  _

_ Forgive yourself and the others might too.”  _

As soon as she sent the letter, she rushed through the door and apparated right next to the shop, behind a tree. Today was what she and her employees liked to call “The fake D-Day”: November, 25th, the day people realize Christmas is exactly a month away and feel the need to rush to the shops to begin their shopping. She had arrived with 30mins to spare before the opening but she could already see a few people waiting in front of her bookstore.

“Hermione, finally!

\- Could you open the shop a bit earlier today, I need to go to the candle shop afterwards and I'm afraid they’ll be out of the lavender ones!

\- Only 30minutes to go, Miss Christine..

\- Come on, we’re already here!

\- I need to go to the butcher to order my turkey!

\- Ladies and Gentlemen, the shop will open at 10, as always.” she answered before closing the door of the shop behind her, letting herself lean on it to take a few deep breaths before getting on with her day.

“Attacked by Miss Christine and Mr.Porter?

\- Yup.

\- Every goddamn year. I might buy them a watch for Christmas.”

Hermione shuckled at Georgia shaking her head all the way to the cash register stand.

She quickly dusted off the books in the display, one-shotted the coffee her sweet employee had brought her and finally turned the sign “Open” on. 

A few hours had gone by and Hermione was still trying to stay afloat in a sea of customers as she already had to break a few fights between some who wanted the same book, like it was the last copy on earth. As lunch time was quickly approaching and the shop didn’t seem to empty itself, she was about to make a run to the bakery a few doors down to buy something for her, Georgia and Eddie to eat when she stopped on her steps, completely frozen. She could have sworn she had seen an icy-blond head float amongst her many customers. “People be blonde, not always who you think it is..” she grumbled to herself before making her way to the door. 

“Excuse-me.

\- Hello, sir! Welcome to the Shop Around the Corner. What can I do for you, today?

\- I heard you did children book readings on Thursdays and I was wondering where I could sign up?”

Hermione did not know why but her own body decided that the right course of action was to hide behind one of the shop’s bookshelves. She knew that voice. She hadn’t heard it in years but she could bet her entire shop on the owner’s identity. Peeking between two books, she properly looked at him for the first time since..well, the war. He had gotten taller, she thought to herself; taller, broader and healthier. She was surprised to see that his hair had gotten shorter; she almost had expected him to follow in his father’s steps and have really long hair by now. 

“Right away, sir. How many children will be joining us?

\- Two.

\- Could I get your name, please?

\- Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” 

Her body did this weird thing where she felt ice going down her spine and a fire ignite in her stomach at the same time. Dressed in a rather simplistic black suit with a long coat over it, Draco Malfoy could fool anyone else but her. For someone who didn’t know him, he looked like one of those fancy young muggle entrepreneurs, here in Kirkwall for Christmas, just to leave for Bali right before New Year’s Eve, thinking they had done their duty to the small village by spending a small fortune to never come back. For her, he looked like a ghost, coming back to haunt her after all this time. She felt quite conflicted to see him healthier, as if losing the war had done him good and even more so as he kept Eddie asking questions about the shop:

“Have you been open for long? How’s business?

\- Well, it has been here for more than 50 years but it changed ownership a few years ago and, trust me, we’re now the most popular bookstore in the county.

\- I see, it is indeed..charming. Is the owner here?

\- I’m afraid she has gone to get us some lunch. You will be able to meet her on Thursday, she is the one doing the readings.

\- I will be back, then. Thank you.

\- Good Day, sir!”

  
  


Hermione waited for Draco Malfoy to close the door of the shop behind him, still hiding behind the bookshelf when she felt someone breathe into her ear: “Boss, why are we hiding?”

Surprised, she jumped to see Georgia hiding behind her, staring at the window, hoping to see something fun. Embarrassed, she cleaned her clammy hands on her pants and replied a bit too enthusiastically: “Oh nothing, nothing.. I'm going to get us lunch!” and running through the door. 

Hermione spent the rest of the day in a weird mood, checking over her shoulder every 5 minutes as if she was expecting him or yet another Hogwarts alumni bursting through the doors of her shop and, most of all, through the Hogwarts-free bubble she had managed to create in Kirkwall.

  
  


The last customer out of the door, Hermione, Georgia and Eddie all fell at once into the nearest sofas and let out a deep breath.

“Geez, if everyday until Christmas is like today, you’ll be soon owing us a raise, boss..” said Eddie, mid-yawn. Cracking her neck, Hermione replied, a content smile on her face: “You might be right, Eddie..you might be right..”

Georgia had taken off her combat boots and put her feet on the nearest table, staring at the ceiling, when she suddenly looked at the others and said: “This calls for drinks. I need some alcohol in my body to relax my muscles.

\- Yes!!! Let’s go!!” Eddie jumped out of his seat and took both Hermione and Georgia’s hands in his to make them stand up. 

Laughing at her employee’s red face, she got up, took out a bank card from her purse and gave it to Georgia, saying: “It’s on me, tonight. But i’ll go home, you guys have fun..

\- Boss, noooo!

\- Shut up, Eddie..” 

As Hermione closed the door of her bookstore behind her, her two employees kept bickering inside. Looking at them fondly, she hoped that one day they would see how much they are right for each other. Until then, they would provide her a much needed distraction every day. 

It had almost become natural to her; rushing home, her head full of incomplete sentences and a sea of thoughts that she believed only her penpal could understand. As soon as she got home, she sat on her armchair by the window and began to write: 

_ “Do you believe in ghosts? Of course, you do. Hogwarts is full of them. But do you believe in ghosts that haven’t died yet?  _

_ I saw one of them today. Someone I believed I was not going to see ever again; maybe as a name in a newspaper once in a while but not in person.  _

_ I do not hold anything against that person anymore; no hard feelings, no hate, nothing. But it still felt weird to see that piece of my past, that memory bursting my new and shiny bubble.  _

_ I don’t know why I froze and hid but I did. Am I scared? Ashamed? or just simply hiding from myself?” _

The next morning, she woke up with a deep pain in her neck, still in her armchair, to the tapping of Aria on her window. Trying to not wake Chip up, she opened the window and let the owl in. 

_ “You are speaking to my soul. I’d rather have to spend the rest of my days with dead ghosts than the ones you are talking about.  _

_ For me it is, without any doubt, shame that I would feel if I met one of my ‘ghosts’; the shame of my past deeds and maybe a tint of envy as I am sure they are better off that I currently am.  _

_ I’d like to think that I’d be courageous and stand up to them but, knowing myself, I would either spat some awful words and use them as a protective barrier or simply run.  _

_ Run away and never look back. Which, if we think of it, I did.  _

_ Did you? or are you a Gryffindor, full of Courage and all the other stupidities this house revolves around?”  _

Hermione laughed at the last sentence before quickly writing:  _ “You are too easy to read, snake. I thought we were supposed to leave those details out of the conversation for the sake of anonymity but anyone who would read this letter could see the true words of a Slytherin. Guess what I am.”  _

As she folded the parchment, she hesitated for a few seconds before giving it to Aria: “Isn’t it dangerous to go down that path? first talking about houses, then age might come into the conversation and he might successfully guess who I am?” she thought, suddenly breathing a little bit quicker and louder than usual. Shaking her head, she said out loud: “No way he guesses who I am..”

She spent that whole day thinking about Draco Malfoy and she realized that she had no idea what he had become; was he married? (he must be, she thought, as he is bringing two kids to the Thursday’s readings), what did he do as a living? (probably nothing since he was filthy rich), did he have the same beliefs he had before? (probably...but what was he doing in a muggle bookstore??? Did he know it was hers????), what would happen when he sees her on Thursday?

That night, Hermione Granger dreamed about the cold floor of the manor, his frozen grey eyes, Dobby and Fred’s lifeless bodies and the place she loved the most in this world exploding into thousands of pieces. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> Feel free to comment anything that goes through your mind.


	4. The Reading Session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello!  
> I'm finally back, computer as good as new.  
> Sorry for the delay :/  
> I haven't had the time to read what i wrote so please excuse the errors.
> 
> song: no particular song this time comes to my mind. Give me your recs!

“No magic, okay?

\- yes ma-ic.

\- no no. NO MAGIC.

\- yes yes ma-ic.” 

Letting out a desperate laugh out, Draco ruffled River’s head and looked at Ivy who was absentmindedly touching her newly braided hair while sucking on her thumb. 

“Ivy, sweetheart.. remember what Mummy said?

\- Magic is our secret. Can’t show it to muggles.” she recited, her thumb still in her mouth. 

“Great, good girl. Let’s go.” he said before entering the busy bookstore. 

The thursday reading sessions seemed to be very popular as the shop was filled to the brim with children and their parents. Where he had seen a big wooden table with lots of books the last time he came was now a large and thick rug with a few pillows lying around and one chair. Several children were already sitting on it, waiting patiently for the reading session to start. Parents stood in the back, talking with each other, forgetting for a second about their wild progeniture running around the shop. 

“Hello, are you here for the reading session?” ask a female employee, a pad and a pen in her hands. 

“Yes, we are. Two children under the name of Malfoy.” replied Draco. The employee stared at her list, looking for his name before crossing something and adding: “Will you leave the children with us or stay here during the reading session?

\- I’ll stay.” he answered, laughing internally at the idea of leaving two very precocious baby wizards unsupervised in the middle of muggles.

She pointed at the back of the shop: “Drinks for the parents are the back. The session starts in 5mins.”

Thanking her, he whispered to Ivy and River “no magic!” once again before making them sit on the rug. Waiving them goodbye, he went to the back of the store in order to find a place to sit or at least lean on for what he thought would be a very boring 45 minutes.

The back of the shop had a big table with coffee, tea and a few biscuits, surrounded by a few chairs and benches against the wall. Serving himself a cup of hot tea, he sat on the bench that had the best view towards where the children were sitting. 

A few years might have passed since the death of the Dark Lord and the end of the war but Draco Malfoy still felt the aftermath of it all in his everyday’s steps. Every time he took Ivy and River away from their parents for a few hours of innocent fun, he felt this irrepressible overprotectiveness towards them as if a Death Eater would suddenly appear from behind the slide at the park or be undercover as a ice cream parlor employee and attack the children for the sins of their parents and his. One hand holding his cup of tea, the other clutching his wand inside the pocket of his coat, he stared at the back of the heads of Ivy and River who were patiently sitting, waiting for the shop owner to come and read them stories. 

Lost in his thoughts, Draco didn’t see the old man sitting next to him before he said: “Are those two yours?” pointing at Ivy and River.

Clutching his wand even harder, Draco answered: “maybe, why?”

The old man chuckled and answered: “You have been staring at them for the past five minutes so it was far from being a wild guess. First time here?”

Loosening his grip on his wand, he forced a smile and nodded. The man patted his shoulder and said: “Good luck. My grandchild came in screaming he didn’t want to be here the first time we came. That was 5 months ago. The owner is very good with children. You can leave them here and go shopping but, personally, I like to listen to her stories as much as the kids do...sometimes even more.”

Curious, Draco stretched his neck to see above the other parents’ heads if the shop owner had arrived or not while the old man kept on talking: “Of course, the fact that she is rather beautiful also helps.” he chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “We all fell in love with her since she arrived in our small town. She’s been such a breath of fresh air.”

Draco added: “She seems rather popular. Aren’t there more book stores around?

\- Oh we do but this one is the most popular by far. Everyone is worried that, one day, she’ll find a nice bloke and get tired of us and leave. This would be a big loss for the community.”

Frowning, Draco silently nodded. The idea of spending time with his godchildren was always welcome but he had to admit that this Thursday outing had ulterior motives: the shopping mall that he was going to open with Blaise and Theo was going to have a big and modern muggle bookstore so he had come to see the competition. He’d hope to either charm the owner into coming to work for them or come to some sort of arrangement where he would find a way to make her leave the town to push buyers to go to his bookstore. 

Knowing that the owner was rather liked by the community of this town was bad news for them but Draco Malfoy was not someone who gave up easily. “If I have to use a confundus spell or two, so be it..” he thought to himself. While he had gotten once more lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized that the old man had kept on talking: “So yes, this town might be small but you’ll see, we are all just one big family and.. Oh there she is!”

Stretching his neck once again, he saw a brunette in a green sweater and dark jeans saying hi to a few children before taking her seat. She seemed quite beautiful from afar but he couldn’t see her face very well as people kept on passing by, blocking his view. 

The room got quieter as she began to speak: “Welcome everyone. Today, I will tell you a few stories that are dear to me. These stories are not available in book form as they were passed down to me by others but I hope you will like them. They might seem dark at times but there is an important lesson behind each one, for everyone.”

Something about her loud, clear and precise voice made Draco freeze in his seat. It reminded him of someone he had not seen for years. Flashbacks of a head full of unruly curly hair and a hand always raised in class flashed before his eyes. “As if..” he whispered to himself, shaking his head to make those silly memories leave his mind. 

“The first story is called ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers’. There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across…” 

Surprised to hear the exact words of a story he had heard thousands of times, he suddenly stood up to better see who was the reader. Focusing onto her face, he realized that he had had flashbacks for a reason: there, on the chair, was sitting Hermione Granger, the Golden Girl, the biggest pain in the ass he had ever encountered and the source of many of his quarrels with his father. 

She kept telling the story, word by word, to a sea of innocent muggles who were all hung up on every single word she was saying. Uncomfortable in his seat, Draco Malfoy’s mind was now being too loud for his liking : “Isn’t this illegal? that must surely be a violation of the international statute of wizarding secrecy!! That girl is crazy! Well, I knew she was but never thought she would share our culture to a muggles, for Merlin’s sakes! How funny would it be if she got arrested for that..” He smirked and sat back, getting more comfortable at the idea of confronting her about it once the reading session was over. 

Hermione Granger then went out to tell ‘The Fountain of Fair Fortune’ and ‘The Wizard and the Hopping Pot”, finishing her reading session by answering a few questions from the children. 

“Let me finish today’s session with a few wise words an old professor of mine has one said: Words are our most inexhaustible source of magic. Use them wisely…” then she looked at the children and said: “and learn as many of them as you can!” which made some parents laugh, followed by the whole store clapping. 

Soon, children were starting to get up from the rug and playing wizards with their friends or running back to their parents who seemed to all be as impressed by the stories as their children were. Getting up from the bench, he nodded to the old man who told him “Hope to see you next time!” and slid across the room between the bookshelves to get to Ivy and River. 

“Uncle Draco, that was the same stories as mommy’s! Did she steal mommy’s stories?” whispered Ivy when Draco kneeled on the rug to put River’s jacket back on. 

Draco smiled and put a finger to his lips by saying “I will tell her off, don’t worry.”

He held River with one arm, holding Ivy’s small hand with the other and looked for Hermione. 

A few feet away, she was talking with the old man who had sat next to him and a small and round boy. 

“I’m glad you liked it, Tommy! I’ll search for even better stories for next time! 

\- We cannot wait, Miss Granger!

\- Thank you, Mr. Hole.” She smiled at the old man before handing them a book from behind the counter. “Have a nice day!

\- Thank you, you too! Oh here you are! I thought you had left already!” said the old man, smiling at Draco, ruining the amazing entrance he had prepared in his mind. 

“No, we want to see what the shop has to offer before we leave.

\- Well, nobody better than Miss Granger here to help you! It’s her shop after all! I'll be right back!” said the old man before clapping his hand on Draco’s shoulder. 

Draco Malfoy could have sworn Hermione Granger had seen a ghost. Her mouth slightly open, her cheeks getting redder by the second, she stared at him with her big brown eyes before quickly putting on a stoic face and saying: “of course, what can I help you with?

\- Well, I was wondering if you could tell me the author of the stories you’ve just read.

\- You stole my mommy’s stories!” suddenly spat Ivy, staring at Hermione with such a frown that it could have made anyone else scared.

Her face completely red, she squatted down to fully face Ivy and said: “Oh sweetheart, i did not steal your mommy’s stories, they’re from a secret book!" and then looked at Draco, a frown also sitting on her face and said: “Tell your child that I did not steal her mother’s stories. Right now.

\- Not my child, not my responsibility. She might be wrong about it being her mother’s story but who knew the Golden Girl did not care about..” he got closer to her and whispered: “the fucking International Statute of secrecy?!” a smirk on his face. 

Flustered, she whispered back: “What are you doing here, Malfoy? How did you find this place?

\- None of your business. What are you doing here, in this hell hole, divulging our secrets to the muggles?

\- None of your business and I'm not!” 

Draco knew that to outsiders, both were looking very strange, whispering very fast to each other but he had not had that much fun in a while. 

“Books! I wanttoshee books!” suddenly cried River, visibly bored with whatever the adults were doing. Draco put him down on the floor and both of the children proceeded to run away towards the Children Books section.

Now both standing awkwardly in silence, Draco ran his fingers through his hair and said in a tone that called for peace:

“Nice thing you’ve got going on here, Granger.

\- Thanks, I guess. Beautiful children.

\- Thanks.

\- Excuse me, miss Granger!” 

The old man, Mr. Hole had come back, this time with a rather awkward young man that looked like a Weasley-Longbottom offspring. “This is my son, Andrew Hole. He’s a pharmacist!

\- She knows, Dad. Hi.” he greeted her with such a shy smile that Draco could swear the poor man was probably on the verge of peeing his pants.

The old man replied: “Well now that you are properly introduced, ask her on a date! Wouldn’t they look beautiful together?” he then asked Draco who suppressed a laugh and answered, his eyes locked on Hermione’s face: “Indeed. Beautiful couple.” 

The witch was now as white as paper and, if staring at someone could kill, Draco believed that he would have had his final moments in that store. “One moment, Mr and Mr Hole. I believe Mr. Malfoy here has some books he’d like to buy!” she said between her teeth before grabbing one of Draco’s arms with one hand and a random book from one shelf. 

She dragged him to the counter before he managed to get his arm out of her grip, snickering. “Come on, Granger. He’s totally your style, looking like a sorry ginger fuck.

\- 7.99 please. 

\- what?

\- seven. ninety-nine.”

His mind blank, he grabbed his muggle bank card and gave it to her. She hid her surprise quite quickly and inserted the cart in some machine. A few minutes later, she put a bag in front of him on the counter and said: “Have a nice day, sir. Never come back again.” with a scary smile on her face. He grabbed the bag and the children nearby and left the store still laughing. 

In front of the store, he suddenly realized he had no idea which book she had made him buy. Opening the bag, he took out a yellow book and looked at its cover. It was entitled “Goodbye, Testicles” by Anne Welsh Guy. Snickering, he looked back at the store to see Hermione talking to that Andrew but staring at him with a frown. Now very content with the outcome of his day, Draco turned the corner and disapparated with the children. 

  
  


“Why are you smiling? That’s not a good look on you.” 

Bringing him out of his thoughts, Draco saw that the Zabinis had all stopped talking and were now staring at him, forgetting all about their diner. 

“Uncle Draco fought with the shop owner because she stole mommy’s stories.” said Ivy, looking very proud of her uncle. Blaise and Pansy looked at him, both eyebrows raised. 

Smirking, he mouthed: “later.” to his friends and proceeded to eat the rest of his diner, an enigmatic smile on his face. 

  
  


“Spit it out.” ordered Pansy while sitting down on the sofa after putting the kids to bed. 

“Was she hot?” asked Blaise, earning himself a slap behind the head from his wife. 

Draco took a sip of his firewhiskey and said, with a voice full of conspiration: “You’ll never know who was the owner of the bookstore we went to today.”

Both Blaise and Pansy, burning from curiosity, leaned forward and whispered: “who?” to which Draco, also dramatically leaning forward, answered: “Granger”. Blaise suddenly got caught in a coughing fit while his wife, absently patting his back, looked at her friend and asked: “What the fuck?”.

Draco laughed, got up to get a cup of water for Blaise who thanked him, tears in his eyes and said: “I was as shocked as you are. 

\- And why was my daughter saying that she stole my stories?

\- The Golden Prat was reading...prepare yourselves.. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, or at least a few of them, to muggles.

\- Noooo!

\- The Hell?! Why?

\- How was she? Last time I heard of her, she had dumped the weasel and the ministry on the same day.

\- Well, I guess she was there, in that shit hole, telling OUR stories to the muggles.” After a few seconds of silence, Blaise asked once again: “But...was she pretty?” to which Draco just shrugged and said: “I guess so…. if you like wild, untamed animals.”

Staying the night in the guest bedroom as he had done so many times, he was surprised to find his owl, waiting for him when he went to bed around midnight. 

Excitement surged in him when he saw the parchment linked to Arya’s leg. Carefully opening the letter, he read:

_“Remember when we talked about ghosts last time? I saw one just like that today, in the most improbable place ever. It’s funny how some people change so much yet their core stays the exact same. I wish people would try to evolve for their own sake and mine.”_

Rummaging around the room for some paper and a quill, he quickly answered:

_“I understand how you feel but there’s a certain charm to staying true to who you are no matter what life has thrown at you. My ghost was the same fiery ball of energy I knew and it somewhat made me feel better.”_

Laying down in bed after sending the letter, he closed his eyes and a flashback of a head full of curls appeared before his eyes, right as he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Hermione makes him buy is a real book. (have no idea what it is about though.) I hope you like it. Have a great week!


	5. Two Whisky Bottles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had better excuses than work but i don't.  
> This chapter took me days to write. Not because i wanted it to be perfect, no no. it's sloppy af.  
> Because I would write 3 sentences and fall asleep in front of my laptop right away.
> 
> I hope you still like it.  
> For this chapter, especially from the middle to the end, I would like to recommend "Karma" by The Main Squeeze.

The next few days were Malfoy-less; Hermione could have sworn she had seen a few times an icy blond head turning around a corner or passing by her shop but it came to a point where she wondered if she was making it all up. Her anonymous penpal’s letters, on the other hand, were still coming in every day without fail and with each word, the young witch felt closer to him: She believed him to be a lonely soul, highly cultured in many domains she herself loved but also quite old school in his ways of thinking. In some of his sentences, Hermione could also see his humor, his innocence but also his anger towards life and himself. She still had no idea who he was and the simple idea of him discovering her identity frightened her to a point that the tiny idea of them meeting one day became a quiet but strong presence in her mind.

The store had been quiet for the past few days, only a few customers here and there and Hermione Granger found herself repeatedly daydreaming about her penpal, about who he might be, how he might look like, if they had had classes together or if he had been just another face in the corridors. Sitting behind the counter, her head in her hands, she’d fantasize about meeting him and him accepting her for who she was and not the “Golden Girl” the media has portrayed. That day, her daydreaming had been interrupted by Eddie, coming back from the coffee shop without coffees, sweating and shaking like a leaf. Hopping off from her stool behind the counter, she ran towards her employee: “Eddie! What’s wrong?

\- We’re doomed! doomed!

\- What’s wrong with him?” asked Georgia, visibly too worried about her co-worker to make a snarky comment. Hermione took him by the shoulders and brought him to one of the armchairs while Georgia ran to the back of the store and came back with a glass of water. On her knees in front of her employee, Hermione asked again: “Eddie, what’s wrong?” He took a big breath in and said: “When I arrived at Maisie’s, everyone was yelling so I asked Fern what the fuss was about and he said that a big shopping center was going to open in Auckgreen very soon!

\- What ?

\- When?

\- They said that it’s already getting ready to open! I don’t know how nobody realized before! It’s going to open before Christmas! Probably next week, who knows? What are we going to do, boss?

\- Calm down, Eddie.. Our shop has been around before even you and I were even born. A shopping center doesn’t mean the end.. I don’t think so..

\- Well everyone was worried! They say that some of the shops in the surrounding towns have already received offers to close their shop and come work in the shopping center! Some have even already sold their shops! Are you going to close too, boss? What about us?” Hermione looked at Georgia, who was standing there silently and said: “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Let’s wait and see.”

After more than an hour spent on comforting her employee, Hermione decided to close the shop early. “I think we all need to take a rest, after today’s news. Go home, we’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” she had said to her employees, a smile on her face while she had tried to sound as confident as usual. The truth was that the idea of having to close her shop due to a bigger competitor opening next door was devastating to her. She knew that her little life away, sheltered from the wizarding world, couldn’t go on forever but she had grown attached to the Shop Around the Corner, Kirkwall and its habitants.

By the time she had gotten home, she was so enraged that she had rushed inside and had begun to write a long rant about how not everything had to be changed and some things were better the way they were. By the fourth page, she had stopped writing and was about to throw the papers in the fire when Aria suddenly appeared at her window, as if she knew she wanted to send a letter. Before regretting it even more, she had sent the owl on her merry way with her lengthy letter attached to her leg. By the time Hermione had come out of her bath, Aria was back with an answer. Hoping that her penpal would have some words of wisdom and comfort for her, she sat down and opened the letter with anticipation:

_“I wish I could say that you were right but I cannot. I understand the power of tradition,_

_I respect History but I also love the idea of starting anew, building something up for the future._

_Sometimes, new things can be scary until they come to be and then the old ones do not seem so irreplaceable anymore. I wish I could be more helpful. Will you let me help you?”_

_“Seeing that we have opposite thoughts on this subject, I don’t think so.”_ she scribbled quickly, frustrated by his answer. As soon as the bird flew out the window, Hermione automatically regretted sending such a childish answer. After all, the poor man had no idea what she was going through. Very mad at herself, she spent the night turning around in her bed until the light of the day came through her window.

A few days passed by and Hermione Granger was having a hard time hiding her bad mood: She had seen a few posters and pamphlets about the shopping center around town and there might have been a few times in which some of them had mysteriously caught on fire. On top of that, her childish behavior towards her penpal had earned her a total radio silence from him for the past few days. The witch tried to convince herself that her correspondent had probably better things to do than to write her every single day without fail and that the absence of letters for a few days had nothing to do with her rebuttal when he offered her his help but, after almost a week of no letters, her argument were starting to be as convincing as her telling her employees that she would never close the shop even though all of her clients would soon leave her for a bigger, better, more modern bookstore at the shopping center. “Coffee.” she said one morning, out loud to herself, before apparating right behind Maisie’s. “Hello, Hermione.

\- 3 Coffees to go?

\- Make it four. One to drink here.

\- You got it.” replied Fern as she sat on a stool at the bar. “You don’t sell alcohol in the morning, do you?

\- No, not until 5pm but you know that very well.” replied the old man, staring down at her with his icy blue eyes. He put a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of her and asked “What’s going on? You look like you haven’t slept in days.

\- Life’s shit, isn’t it?” groaned Hermione, her lips on the cup, trying to drink her coffee without her hands.

\- Language, young lady.

\- Sorry.

\- I guess you’ve heard of the shopping center? 

\- Yes.

\- Thoughts?

\- Just one: I’d like to put my hands on the throat of the person who had this idea.”

Hermione Granger was thankful to her two employees, Eddie and Georgia. By the end of the day, none of them had talked to her unless necessary and when she announced that she was leaving early today, they just nodded in silence. Trying not to worry about the fact that her employees seemed particularly terrified of her today, she made her way to her apparition spot before stopping on her tracks. “Why would I go home? there’s no letter waiting for me anyways..” she thought to herself before turning around and walking towards a less frequented bar where she was sure to have some silence and no judgement if she ordered one of the stronger alcohols.

The witch was sad: it was one of those days where she regretted being so far from Harry, Ron and Ginny. Of course, she could easily apparate but she did not want to intrude without owling first. She was sad about her shop’s uncertain future and also about her secret pen pal with whom she had so much in common but seemed to have lost interest in her. So she sat there, nursing her glass of whisky, in the darkest corner of the bar.

By her 3rd glass, the bar was fuller than expected and she was almost ready to leave when she realized that the more people they were, the less she felt seen which, for someone who had spent her whole teenagehood under the spotlight, was an incredible feeling so she relaxed back and ordered another drink. By the 5th glass, it wasn’t burning her throat anymore and she could almost feel the sweetness of the whisky run through her veins. She was so engrossed by the way the golden liquid swirled around the ice cubes in her cup that she didn’t see anyone approach her table until he pulled up a chair and sat down. Foggy eyes and curls blocking her view, it took quite a while before she understood who that was. “Hmm..

\- Malfoy.

\- Granger.

-Whatchu want?” she asked between two hiccups. He laid back on his chair and smirked at her: “Well I wanted a drink and some peace but I couldn’t resist annoying the hell out of you.

\- Fuck off, Malfoy.

\- How many drinks have you had?”

She straightened herself on her chair, pulled back the curls in front of eyes and said: “None of your business. That seat is taken, anyways.

\- By what? your sorrows?” She didn’t answer and went back to swirling her whisky around. “Look, if you had been in your normal state, you would have seen that I have been sitting at the bar for an hour now. In fact, I have been here quite a lot and it’s the first time I’ve seen you here. I thought you prefered the much crowded one, near your shop.” She sighted and took another sip: “I do but I needed some alone and quiet time.” Hermione realized he had brought his own Whisky bottle and cup as he slowly poured more whisky in her cup before doing the same into his. “So?” he asked. He stared at her, his grey eyes into hers, not blinking once, as if he was trying hard to see past her brown eyes and frowny face. Hermione stared back at him for a while in silence before blurting out, between two hiccups: “My shop is on the verge of collapsing and someone I care about hasn’t been answering my owls.

\- I see. The question is: what can you do about both of these issues?

\- No. The question is: What are you doing here, Draco Malfoy? In Kirkwall, of all the places.

\- Some business, some sightseeing, seeing some old friends from school..” he smirked, holding his cup in the air in front of her. She snorted before holding up her cup in the air as well. A few minutes went by in a weirdly comfortable silence before she said: “This is weird.” and he answered in a breath: “I know.” She looked at him, glossy eyes and added: “I ran away from it all, I chose the smallest town in the smallest county and who finds me here? You. of all people. Don’t flatter yourself, Granger. I haven’t been looking for you.

\- Oh.” she let out before quickly adding: “I know that. Of course, you didn’t. If you didn’t back then, why would you now..” Hermione’s face had become red, not from the alcohol but due to the last sentence she had blurted out. Gathering her courage, she finally managed to look back at him to see that he looked quite uncomfortable, his cheeks getting pinker by the second. Running his hands through his hair, he seemed to have a hard time finding an answer for her and the cheeky Draco Malfoy had now let way to a silent, uncomfortable young man. “I.. I thought about it: writing to you or asking you to meet me but..

\- But you never did. I wasn’t expecting anything from you anyways.. I did it for me.

\- Yes, but nobody asked you to testify for me and, honestly, I was expecting shit like this from Potter but from you.. I just.. I was an asshole.

\- You still are.

\- Yes.” he chuckled. “I might be, who knows.. But I..I have learned a lot.

\- I heard.

\- What?

\- I heard about you giving classes at Hogwarts. Potty Potter and Longbottom told you, I suppose..

\- and McGonagall.

\- I see. And what do you think about it?

\- ‘bout what?

\- An ex- death eater teaching our youth.

\- Nobody better to do it than a kid that was forced into becoming one. It’s a shame it’s you or..” she just shrugged and leaned to take the bottle in front of him. He was faster. As he grabbed it, he asked, his eyebrows raised: “or what? Or I would support it publicly. and maybe, who knows, join you. But yeah, it’s you.” To her surprise, he smirked and then laughed quietly. As she was going to ask him what was funny, he leaned towards her and said while pouring her another glass: “Come on, Granger. We had our fair share of fun.

\- Yes, that time I punched you in the face was indeed fun. Beautiful experience. would recommend.

\- I personally liked that time you finally came second in runes. I think I hung that essay on my wall in my dorm for weeks.

\- That happened one time! I beat you in all the other classes, every year!

\- Besides Potions..

\- Because of Snape! Your godfather was teaching the class, for Merlin’s sake!”

And so they kept talking about Hogwarts, managing to keep the discussion around neutral subjects such as classes, professors, and what their fellow classmates had become. Hermione had learned Draco and Pansy Parkinson had never been an official couple and that she was now married to Blaise Zabini while Draco seemed to have been surprised at the mention of Dean and Seamus’ wedding in New Orleans three years ago. Hermione felt like she was dancing with him, waltzing around neutral memories, the tempo accelerating when she would find herself breathless or stuttering after seeing a genuine and innocent laugh from Draco Malfoy, to the song sometimes stopping brusquely after one of them did the mistake of casually mentioning something about the war or somebody dead. In those situations, she was secretly glad that he was very good at changing the subject.

Another bottle of whisky later, Hermione Granger would have rather gone to Azkaban rather than admitting it but she was having fun. The alcohol had slowly made her relax just enough that she was about to begin to see Draco Malfoy simply as an old classmate and school rival that she was having drinks with while reminiscing about the good ol’ times but her heart would sometimes skip a beat, sometimes because of his smile that would shine brighter than anything else in this old and dark bar but sometimes also because of his grey eyes that would made her remember a certain cold stone floor, making her arm itch for the first time in many years. Could this random meeting be fate? Could it be a way for them to finally get to know each other? Truth be told, Hermione had often wondered about who Draco Malfoy was hiding inside, especially when she would see him laugh with his friends, slap a hand in Crabb or Goyle’s back or put his winter coat around a shivering Pansy Parkinson’s shoulders. However, no endless amount of whisky would make the witch forget about their shared past. While he was making fun of her for her short-lived love story with Viktor Krum, she was having a hard time trying to concentrate on the funny, weirdly talkative and quite handsome man sitting on the other side of the table and less on memories that she felt moving inside her brain. Feeling like everything was being a bit too much, Hermione suddenly got up and mumbled: “I gotta go.

\- What? oh.” She didn’t need to look at him to know; his disappointment could be heard in his voice. “let me walk you home.

\- No need to.” she said as she was putting her coat and scarf on. “ This was..well, yeah. but i need to go.” she mumbled again as she began to walk out. Her walk was very short-lived as she stumbled on an empty share on her left as soon as she stood up and almost fell, face first but felt two strong arms lifting her up.

The arms were now holding her around the waist and she found herself leaning against whoever that was. Blinking twice, she lifted her head up to find a pair of grey eyes staring at her. “You okay?” he asked, very quietly. She nodded. They stood there just long enough for Hermione realizing that he was still holding her in his arms. Both kept staring at each other in silence and the witch’s eyes kept going back and forth between his own eyes and his rather pink lips. Soon, she realized that he too was staring at her lips and his head was leaning forward just a little bit more as every second went by. Before she could do something that she might regret the next day, she gathered her strength and, putting her hands on his chest, she lightly pushed back and said: “I’ll see you around.’’ before walking as fast as she could out of there, leaving a dumbfounded Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the bar.

As she half-walked, half-stumbled through the snow, she kept asking herself what the hell had just happened. Hermione had been on the verge of kissing her school nemesis, her bully, a pureblood ex-Death Eater. “Alcohol, it was the alcohol..I would have probably kissed Neville with the amount of alcohol I drank..” she said out loud before disapparating, at the risk of losing a limb.

Once in front of her door, still very inebriated, she had another surprise waiting for her: Aria was waiting for her, perched on her flower pot. Hermione rushed towards her but was surprised, and quite disappointed, to see that the bird had no letter for her. “What’chu doing here?” she asked the owl. “You have nothing for me, I have nothing foyou! Shooo!” she waved her arms around, hoping to scare the owl but it only let out a small sound that seemed very much like a sigh and kept staring at her. Doing her best to ignore the animal, she went inside and closed the door behind. Letting herself slide down to the floor, her back against the door, she began drunkenly to take off her boots and throw them across the room. “I wrote last. He didn’t answer. not my turn...Was busy anyway.. you know, drinking with Malfoy..” she mumbled towards Chip who had now sat right next to her and was staring, its head tilted like a dog. “I didn’t kiss Malfoy though..no, no, no Chip! I’m strong!..

\- Meow.

\- Malfoy is bad for me.

\- Meow.

\- I miss my penpal. What a strange feeling it is to miss someone you don't know.

\- Meow..

\- If I can have a nice time with Draco freaking Malfoy, I could easily have fun with a stranger, right?

\- Meow. So I should write to him and say that we should meet!”

The cat did not answer quick enough as she was already rushing towards her desk and grabbing a piece of paper and a muggle pen:

_“Hello. I want to meet. December, 1st. 5pm. The Coffee Club in Kirkwall, UK.”_

Too scared to properly think, she rushed half-naked, barefoot outside and attached the letter to the owl who, after a noise that Hermione interpreted as “ugh finally..”, flew away as soon as it could. “I’m going to regret that, I'm going to regret that..” Hermione kept repeating to herself as she went back inside, directly towards her bed, crashing on top of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!


	6. Breakfast Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> I would like to apologize for the unannounced hiatus. I didn't know it had been that long since I last posted. I hope you are still interested.
> 
> When I first started writing this story, I thought that I would be done before Christmas. After all, this is a Christmas Story. But life has been shit lately, moral has been low and imagination even lower. I hope you forgive me.

_ Her face was getting closer by the second and he couldn’t help but stare at her lower lip. In that moment, it looked like the purest, softest thing he had ever seen and he was about to give away his entire fortune just for a taste of it. _

When he opened his eyes, Draco Malfoy found himself staring at a familiar ceiling that he knew did not belong to the manor. Wincing due to an astronomical headache, he managed to sat up on the bed and look around, just in time for Pansy to barge into the room and say:

“You know, if you’re going to keep on appearing drunk at my door, you should just take up on our offer and move in with us.” she said with a smile, leaning on the wall, her hands caressing her enormous belly. 

Running his fingers through his hair in order to soothe his headache, he whined like a child: “Pans, i’m dying..” to which his friend laughed and answered “Yes, you are and what a hangover this must be, judging by the way you were yesterday. Third drawer on your left side table, there’s hangover potion and some muggle medicine that works wonders if I may say so myself. Take them and come down, we have some questions.”

Dragging himself across the bed, he groaned “About what?” while rummaging in the drawer.

Pansy let out a snort and said: “About the girl you wanted to kiss yesterday.” before leaving, her laugh resonating in the corridors.

“Wh-what?” he stammered, turning his head quickly towards the door that Pansy had left wide open. He froze, laying across the bed, one hand on the drawer. 

He suddenly remembered: it had been another unfruitful day in Kirkwall and many shop owners had either closed their door in his face or yelled at him for wanting to destroy their own lives. As usual, he did not want to go to the Manor before he was sure his parents would be asleep so his legs automatically led him to the smaller pub in town, one that did not seem to have as many customers as the one near the town’s square. He had been sitting down at the bar, nursing his third glass of whiskey when he realized that Hermione Granger had sat at a table, alone, in a corner. “She must be waiting for that muggle boyfriend of hers..” he had thought but an hour soon passed and she was still alone. By then, the few drinks he had in him made his urge to annoy her too grand to contain and so he had approached her table. 

Draco could not remember anything the rest of the night but warm and fuzzy feelings; he remembered that he had laughed to tears for the first time in a while, how the “I’m half insulting you, half joking with you” banter between the both of them had made him feel more alive than ever and, most of all, he remembered her pink, soft-looking lips. 

The wizard had stared at them long enough for them to be forever engraved in his memory. He had always secretly found the annoying witch attractive but the end of the war and a peaceful life had been good on her: Draco remembered that his drunk self had thought that he would never need candles again since Hermione Granger shone brighter than anything else. And then, she had almost kissed him, her piercing eyes turning his brain into jello, but she hadn’t and drunk Draco Malfoy had felt his stomach drop to the center of the earth.

Shaking his head, he got quickly dressed up and managed to summon his coat from the living room, in an attempt to flee the Zabini Household before any interrogation began, but was caught by Ivy and River, yelling: “The coat flying, coat flying!” which quickly caught their mother’s attention: “Draco Lucius Malfoy, get your ass in here or i’ll burn your coat.”

Groaning all the way to the living room, he was welcomed with hugs by the children and grins by the parents, plus Theo Nott, who annoyingly seemed to have everything in his life going according to plan. The three of them were sitting at the diner table, having breakfast, and Draco’s eyes automatically went to the plate of muffins that would certainly help with his hangover.

“I need to go to..

\- No. Sit down.

\- Pansy..

\- Sit.” 

Dragging his feet like a child, he sat down at the table and made the plate of muffins fly away as Blaise was trying to get one. His friend looked at him, all surprised, to which he mouthed: “Traitor.” 

“So… yesterday.

\- None of your business.

\- What happened yesterday? Did I miss something?” asked innocently Theo Nott, his eyes going back and forth between his three other friends.

\- Nothing that concerns any of you, Nott.

\- Well it does concern me when you apparate in front of my front door, forced your way into my house and banged on our bedroom door for twenty minutes to tell us that, I quote, she was about to kiss you but she didn’t and that you were sad about it.”

Draco put his face into his hands, groaning, while his friends laughed their heads off. 

On his left, Blaise Zabini stopped laughing and asked, while wiggling his eyebrows: “Tell us, who was the mean witch that didn’t want to kiss our Drakey?

\- Sod off, Zabini. I had drinks with a witch, I got drunk and that’s it. End of the story.

\- Well, can we know who that witch was? I have been trying to get you a date for months!

\- Nope.” 

Wanting to change the subject, he looked at his friend Theo, who until now, had been listening with a smile on his face, and said: “Look Theo, I don’t think Auckgreen is a good fit for us.

\- What ? We’re opening next week!

\- What are you saying, mate?”

Draco himself didn’t know what was going on with him but he knew that staying in Auckgreen would mean that he would have to spend a lot of time in that tiny hole that was Kirkwall and he didn’t want to see her again. He was definitely too busy to develop an unhealthy obsession with a witch that would never give him a chance.

“I just think we could easily find somewhere better, closer to London, with more people.

\- You were the one saying that we should open in the middle of nowhere so people would have no other choice but to come!

\- What has gotten into you? Are you having second thoughts? You know we cannot do this without you, mate..

\- No, no i’m not.. it’s just... “ he shrugged and stared at the outside garden through the window. 

_ “I didn’t know she would be there..” _ he thought while his friends had already changed the subject of conversation. 

As he was buttering a scone and zoning out, the memory of Hermione Granger’s lips, the sound of her annoying laugh and her eyes spitting fire at him came to his mind. He was glad no kiss had happened as it would have complicated the whole situation but he had to admit he almost wished it had.

Draco Malfoy had gone on dates since the war. The fact that he was a war criminal did not prevent young and older witches to want to have him by their side. He’d gone on dates with a thousand ministry employees, daughters of rich families his mother and friend had introduced to him and even a few foreign witches but all the dates had ended up being insipid, boring and he had had to stop himself from yawning every 5 minutes at each of them. Yesterday’s encounter had been different: he had found it quite refreshing to talk with a witch smarter than him, that could argue with him on pretty much any subject under the sun. He even enjoyed the banter and old school rivalry between them as Hermione Granger’s cheeks seemed to catch on fire every time she argued with him, making him lose his cold facade. Draco wondered if she knew that he was involved in the Auckgreen Shopping Center as she had not said a word about it. If she did, she had not looked very bothered about drinking with her biggest competitor. If she didn’t, well.. it had been nice while it had lasted.

“Oh by the way, you got an owl last night, right after you went to bed.

\- huh?

\- Here.” 

The letter was written in some weird muggle lined paper and seemed to have been torn from some notebook. 

_ “Hello.  _

_ I’m drunk so I might regret this letter in the morning,  _

_ this is why I'm sending it now, while I still want to.  _

_ I want to meet. December, 1st. 5pm.  _

_ The Coffee Club in Kirkwall.”  _

Kirkwall..

The Coffee Club..

He had been to or passed by a hundred times the Coffee Club and the only witch he had seen there was..

“Fuck.” was all Draco managed to say while he read and re-read that short letter a thousand times. 

“What?” Asked Theo.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. This can’t be.” he muttered, staring at the letter. “Of all the towns in this forsaken country..

\- What’s happening?” asked Pansy, snatching the letter out of his hands before he could even say anything. “Oh she wants to meet! That’s great! What has gotten your panties in a twist?”

Blaise, his head on his wife’s shoulder, smirked after reading the letter and said: “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Malfoy.”

Draco Malfoy was frozen on his chair, forgetting how to blink and breathe properly, whispering: “It’s her. Oh fuck, it’s her.” again and again. 

“It’s official, he’s lost his shit.” simply said Theo, staring at his friend. Shaking his hand in front of Draco Malfoy’s face, he asked: “Mate..Hey! What’s wrong?” to which Draco managed to answer: “Look at the name of the town.

\- The Coffee Club in Kirkwall..” his friend read before looking at him and asking: “Uh ? Isn’t it the town you keep going to in order to convince the shop owners to work something out with us?

\- Yes.

\- So what’s the problem? There might be some witch living there or nearby.

\- Oh there is..One. One witch.”

By then, Draco Malfoy did not know if he wanted to cry or laugh. Dropping his head on the table with a loud sound, he let out a long groan and began to rant: “Why? why the fuck is this happening to me? of all the towns, of all the witches..”

Pansy Parkinson did not like to be kept in the dark, no matter if she had anything to do with the subject or not. In her mind, she had waited long enough for an answer and was now losing her temper: “Draco Lucius Malfoy, you better calm the fuck down and tell us what you’re ranting about in a correct and intelligible way or i’ll beat you up.”

Slowly, he raised his head, took a big breath and said: “The witch..I know who it is.”

“Who?” his three friends asked in a chorus.

“Granger.”

  
  


An hour later, the wizards had ditched the breakfast coffee for something stronger. By then, Draco had told his friends all about his encounters with Hermione Granger (besides the one that had just happened the day before) and the similarities she had with his secret penpal.

“It might not be her!

\- I’m sure it’s her.

\- Did you meet every single person living in that town? No! So why would you think it’s her?

\- Because she lives there and by the way she writes, she was studying at Hogwarts at the same time as we did!

\- But she never said she was in our year, right? There were around 600 of us which would be, let’s say, 300 girls..300 girls, Draco.. I don’t know why it would be her..

\- Do you think the Golden Girl needs to be talking to strangers like that?

\- But…

\- Dude, if you are convinced that it’s her, then go! Go to the meeting and see it for yourself!”

Draco laughed and got up off his chair, saying: “You mad??!”, a ton of exasperation in his voice. “What if it’s really her, uh? What do I say? It’s not like.. it’s not like we can be anything more than what we are now!” he let out in one breath.

Pansy got up from her chair, came towards him and said: “And what are you?

\- What?

\- What are you? The both of you.

\- Nothing.” quickly answered the wizard, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

He sometimes wished Pansy Parkinson was the dumb bitch people thought she was. It would have been easier to get out of the conversation he was about to be trapped into.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.. 

\- Stop calling me by my full name.” he snapped, still avoiding her gaze but to no avail as his friend was already feeling empowered by his silence and was now standing right below his nose, her eyes sparkling with malice.

“Last night, where were you?

\- Out.

\- Did you happen to be in Kirkwall?

\- No.

\- Yes, you were!” screamed Blaise, slowly understanding where his wife was going to.

Theo, on the other hand, was still very much lost. “What are you guys talking about?”

Blaise, putting a hand on Theo’s shoulder, said, in an excited voice: “Think, Nott, think with that jolly head of yours.” A few seconds went by in silence before Theo’s blank face turned into a smirk and he let out an “Oh.”

Draco, getting more and more annoyed by the second, said: “I don’t know what you think I did but stay out of my busi..

\- Oh you were so with her!” said an excited Pansy, clapping her hands, bouncing around the living room like a child. “Granger was the one you wanted to kiss! Oh merlin, this is too good!”

No strength left in him to refute her words, Draco let himself fall onto the sofa, putting his head in his hands. He was now feeling nauseous and had to keep his eyes closed while his friends went on, making fun of him and of the situation, one already choosing which brand of firewhiskey they should drink once he gets his heart broken while the other were already talking about the color of the bridesmaids dresses at the potential Malfoy-Granger wedding.

Draco was still not over the idea that Hermione Granger might be his penpal. The idea that the Golden Girl, the pain of his existence might be the intelligent, well spoken, soft yet strong woman he had been talking to these past weeks was just strange to him. At the same time, the similar yet conflicting feelings he had started to develop for both Granger and the secret penpal were now starting to make sense. He also knew very well that these feelings, whatever he thought he was starting to feel, would not lead anywhere but towards pain and heartbreak. 

He felt someone sitting on the sofa, right next to him. A hand went to his shoulder and squeezed it slightly: “Are you okay?

\- Do I look okay?” he groaned in response.

Theo laughed softly and said: “I’ll come with you.

\- What ? where? 

\- To the date, meeting or whatever this is.”

Draco quickly lifted his head out of his hands and looked towards his friend in surprise:

“Why would you? Hello, Granger! I’m your secret pen pal and I brought yet another Slytherin that you hardly know because he spent his whole time at Hogwarts in his room.

\- I won’t go in, you fool. I’ll check from the entrance or the window to see if it’s her. As you said, she probably does not remember me..I don’t think I have ever talked to her, really..If it is her, you’ll have the choice to go in or not. If it’s not, we’ll have a good laugh, it will help you calm down and I'll come back home, praising myself because I’m such a good friend.”

Draco stared at his friend for a while then slowly nodded: “Thanks..” he mumbled while squeezing awkwardly Theo’s knee. “I’m going on a walk. Please help me leave.”

Theo, being the good friend he was, managed to occupy the Zabini-Parkinson household long enough with a grotesque and very random story for Draco to take his coat and leave swiftly. 

Once outside the door, he took a big breath and before even thinking it through, he apparated, soon feeling the cold, ocean air of Kirkwall messing up with his hair.

His legs led him to the main street where most of the stores were already open for the day.

He kept walking, his brain completely blank as if someone had thrown a Confudo or even worse, the Imperius Curse at him. 

When he finally regained consciousness, he was standing on the opposite side of the street, staring at “The Shop Around The Corner”, shining from all the Christmas decorations it had on. He could see that she was alone, running around, a mountain of books in her arms and, by the movement of her lips, she seemed to be whistling. He let out a soft laugh as he thought to himself that, after all she had been through, she still managed to look exactly like she did at school: proud, wild and wonderful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate!  
> And a Happy New Year (If, once again, I don't manage to post next week haha..)


End file.
